


Things That Aren't, But Are

by baddiamonds



Category: One Direction
Genre: Angst, Barebacking, Coming Out, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Overstimulation, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 19:03:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baddiamonds/pseuds/baddiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Niall was in love with his best friend and older brother type neighbour and what if during a stupid camping trip things changed and what if when they got home nothing actually changed at all and what if Niall wasn’t exactly okay with that.</p><p>or the one where Niall has a crush on Louis and Louis takes a while to see the benefits in that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things That Aren't, But Are

**Author's Note:**

> So this all started with “what pairings haven’t we wrote/who can’t we really ship into?” and continued with “well, I could see a younger/older brother thing between them － but nothing too much?” and ended with “but what if Niall totally didn’t have a crush on his neighbour, he just blushed a lot,” and well.. a few hours of notfic, another in a gdoc cleaning stuff up and [lumos](archiveofourown.org/users/lumos) picking up the mistakes and we had this.

It’s not that Niall thinks about Louis like that. It’s completely his pale Irish skins fault that he pinks up when Louis is near or that his heart beats faster when Louis is around. It’s a crush, that’s all.

It’s just that whenever Niall looks over the fence to the Tomlinson’s he sees Louis and he's fit and he's mowing the lawn for his mum and that's lovely and all but does he _really_ need to do it without a shirt?

And why is it whenever he trains Niall's footy team he does _that_ without a shirt, too?

Even in the winter?

And why is it that when their mums decided it would be a good idea for them to go to scouts when they were younger, that they _still_ go even if it’s a little uncool? Niall’s mum is completely okay with him going away camping with Louis just because Louis really wants to go and Jay said yes so Maura has to, too. It’s not that Niall doesn’t _want_ to go, but Liam was going and Louis and Liam were something? Maybe? Niall could never quite figure their friendship out. But then Liam got sick and Niall frets because they _so_ aren't going now and maybe he sort of _wants_ to go because Louis has been talking it up as some great big adventure.

Yet all is saved when Tommo arrives that night and helps him pack his shit and maybe when they're settled for the night － “two to a tent boys,” Simon barked － their tent listing horribly to one side, Louis starts a tickle fight that ends with Niall and Louis wrestling. Louis, with his slight height advantage, pins Niall more than he would have figured; but maybe Niall lets him, too.

Maybe it’s all the touching and maybe it’s because Louis smells so _good_ that Niall gets hard and his face gets so, so hot and he closes his eyes tight when Louis slows and he is certain Louis can feel where he’s pressing up against the thick of Louis’ thigh.

Louis blushes too, but he laughs it off and asks if he needs to explain about the birds and the bees and gets Niall in a headlock that's more like a hug.

They settle into their sleeping bags － zipped together because Louis thought it would be a good idea － giggling after that, trying to laugh of the discomfort of teenage hormones and leave it forgotten by the morning. But even after Louis’ breathing has evened out and Niall can feel the soft puff of each breath on the back of his neck he finds himself wide awake and wondering just what it would take for Louis to roll his hips down into his instead of laughing and moving away.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he wakes up in the morning with Louis’ arm thrown haphazardly around him and his chest wide and warm against Niall’s back. Some time in the night Louis has moved closer to him, and Niall can feel his morning wood digging into him. It’s somewhat startling － not only is it the start of every dirty fantasy Niall’s conjured up in his head within the past year, but it’s also ill timed because he’s seriously gotta pee.

He moves to slide quietly out of Louis’ grip, gasping when he grumbles in his sleep, sound dangerously close to a whimper as Louis’ hips shift and his dick digs into Niall’s arse. Niall breathes in sharply, swallowing thickly when Louis starts to fidget against him, rubbing himself up against him in slow circles. His bladder is long forgotten and instead he can feel his own dick rising in his sleep pants, scooting even closer to Louis and pushing his arse back into his cock.

It feels strange having something hot and hard pressing against him, but it also has the heat rising in Niall’s face and a thin layer of sweat working it’s way over his skin. He starts to grind his hips into Louis’ experimentally, gasping when his fingers clutch the fabric of Niall’s shirt and he groans softly against his neck because when did Louis even wake up? But Louis’ just panting quietly and Niall can’t seem to stop the movement of his hips now, can’t even think enough to shove a hand down his pants and get himself off, too.

Niall doesn’t even realize how heavy his breathing is until Louis’ hand slide down his stomach, pressing firmly against him before his fingers twist over his thigh and lift up just a little, just enough to fit his leg in between. He doesn’t even realize he’s whining in the back of his throat until Louis breathes shakily into his ear, barely manages to whisper, “You _have_ to be quiet.”

Niall nods furiously, hand moving to cover his own mouth, and he cries into it as Louis cups the outline of his dick, palm digging into him as he thrusts roughly against his arse. Louis’ thrusts are getting rutty and shorter, his teeth digging into the back of Niall’s shoulder, and he grunts before driving forward against Niall, stilling behind him and _holy fuck_ , he just made Louis come. 

And that’s － Niall surprises himself as his hips surge forward, body going taut before he comes, too, keening into the palm of his hand, chest heaving.

They just lay there for a while, sated and sticky, and Niall has all these _questions_. Questions like how was Louis so good at this? And when did he learn about the thigh trick, and _how_ did he make Niall come so fast? Louis is a whole year (and seven months, and sixteen days) older than him and it’s obviously made a difference, because he kisses the back of Niall’s neck and pinches his side like it’s nothing, chucking his pants off into the corner and quickly sliding on a new pair and his jeans from the day before.

“C’mon, we’re gonna miss breakfast,” Louis exclaims once Niall’s gotten out of his dirty pants, and well. Niall is certainly not about to put an existential crisis above breakfast.

They’re out at the lake when Niall decides that it’s a Thing, and it’s been like six hours since the Thing happened, and they aren’t talking about it. Instead Niall is sat precariously on the dock on the edge of the lake while Louis catapults himself into the water on the old rope swing. Behind the safety of his sunglasses he can admire how fit Louis is. He’s got sun kissed skin and there’s a slight curve to his hips where his swim trunks hang low, happy trail darkening before disappearing underneath. And yeah, maybe he’s got a little bit of a belly, but it’s one of Niall’s favorite things about him － especially when Louis lets him use it as a pillow during movie nights or poke him during their day long FIFA tournaments (Louis claims playing FIFA is like practicing football without getting sweaty. Niall thinks he just likes to play it constantly because he’s explained Mario Party to Louis at least seven times now and he still can’t win a single round).

He’s still thinking about the Thing later that night when their troop is gathered around the campfire, the smell of burning wood thick in the air and giving the marshmallows Simon had insisted they roast a smoky aftertaste (Niall hadn’t really minded; as stupid as American camping traditions were, he was seriously not going to complain about melted chocolate and marshmallows).

Louis spends the whole night cuddled up right next to him, biting every third marshmallow off Niall stick before he can even move to stop him and cackling like it’s the funniest thing every fucking time. Niall really wants to be mad at him, even _is_ the first two times, but after the third swipe he’s mostly just impressed.

“How th’fuck are you doin’ that, mate?” he asks, half-frowning, half-smiling at his bare, sticky roasting stick.

Louis stick his tongue out, completely covered in marshmallow, before giving a winning smile, “Maybe I was born with it. Maybe it’s－”

Niall throws what substitutes as a graham cracker at him before he can finish his sentence, and they spend the rest of the night taking jabs at each other as everyone starts to bugger off into their own tents. Niall thinks about heading back towards theirs, for a moment, but Louis’ already snuggled into his side and he’s too tired, really. They _did_ spend all day at the lake so it’s normal that he’s too stuffed to think about moving (although Louis’d spent most of it swimming while Niall spent it sleeping, watching Louis through his Ray Bans).

He wakes up extremely disgruntled, the low light of the dying fire flickering. It’s nothing but embers now, catching on the edge of everything around him, but Niall doesn’t really think much of it because he might be in a dream or someone is really kissing the fabric covering his dick.

Niall can’t see Louis, his head covered by a blanket － probably thrown over them by Simon, who could be nice when he wasn’t teaching them very seriously about tying knots and being decent members of society － but he swears softly when a hand slides underneath his pants and then there’s this heat on the tip of his dick. It’s wet and warm and he lifts the blanket up a bit and Louis’ soft caramel hair is in the way, and he can’t see because it’s so dark. Even if he can only catch the nest of Louis’ hair, he knows it’s him, it couldn’t be anyone else, and when Louis tilts his head the moonlight filters from between the trees and Niall can finally see Louis’ thin lips tight around his dick. He can see Louis’ big blue eyes staring up at him, and maybe it’s the lack of proper lighting, but Niall could almost swear they’ve got dark － predatory even － and he shivers and moans louder than he should because _Louis is sucking his dick_.

Louis pulls off and there’s this long line of spit and precome between his bottom lip and the tip of Niall’s cock and he licks at it until it breaks and whispers, “You have to be quiet, Nialler.”

Niall knows what to do, covers his mouth with a shaky hand, his thumb slipping between his lips as Louis swallows down his dick without any preamble, working over him confidently. It feels like he’s shaking everywhere, from his head to his toes, and Niall can barely _breathe_ because Louis’ lips feel so good around him. Louis’ not even using his hand, head bobbing up and down in a perfect rhythm that has Niall writhing and trying to buck into the wet cavern of his mouth. He comes down Louis’ throat with Louis’ fingers digging harshly into Niall’s hips and he’s got two of his own fingers wedged in his mouth for something to bite down on.

He wakes up in the morning with the blanket brushing the tops of his shoulders and the camp already buzzing around him. He curses under his breath when he realizes that he’s late to breakfast, trudging up to the food where it’s laid out on the picnic table and salvaging what he can of the eggs and sausage, frowning at his soggy toast. There’s absolutely no bacon left.

Niall can’t even bring himself to care that he woke up without a Louis cuddled into his side because bacon is seriously like his favorite part of breakfast. He’s so bummed about it that he only takes one bite of sausage before he starts flicking his eggs around the plate with a plastic fork.

“You’re such a sad sack,” Louis teases, dropping a completely unburnt, perfectly cooked slice of bacon on his plate as he sits himself beside Niall.

Niall makes a nonchalant face, pointedly ignoring the bacon for about two seconds before biting half of it into his mouth. 

“I’m no’ sure what you mean,” he says around a mouthful of meat, raising his eyebrow challengingly.

Louis laughs, pushing the side of his head before he gets up and saunters off towards the table for some orange juice, bringing Niall back a cup with double the pre-poured serving. 

He loves Louis, he really does.

Niall is buzzing for the rest of the day after that. He spends all day splashing around in the lake with Louis, playing chicken and beating every single to that comes up against them. They get bored around two and decided that they should give Simon the splash of his life, sneaking up on either side of him where he’s sat reading the handbook on the dock before soaking him to the bone. He yells at them as they swim out into the center of the lake, trying not to laugh and get water in their lungs.

They climb onto the second dock floating in the middle of the lake and lay on their backs, shielding their eyes from the sun with their hands in order to look up at the clouds.

“That one’s shaped like a penis,” Louis snorts, finger pointing up at a fluffy shape that most definitely does not look like a penis and _actually_ looks like a －

“ _Flamingo_ , honestly Tommo,” NIall scoffs, shaking his head.

“You’re a flamingo,” Louis huffs, right before he pushing Niall off the wood and into the less than warm lake water.

By the time they race back to shore, the rest of the lads have arranged a game of capture the flag. Louis quickly declares himself a captain, completely ignoring the teams already set up, and selects Niall for his co-captain. As expected, nobody argues and Louis gets his way.

Louis gathers their team in a huddle, talking strategy with a look of pure determination on his face. Niall knows that no matter how trivial the game, Louis is a terribly competitive. 

They’ve only been at it for about fifteen minutes when Niall’s managed to find himself ahead of Louis, pushing through low hanging branches and side stepping thick tree roots as he tries to find his way towards the flag they’re meant to be guarding when Louis wraps his hand around Niall’s wrist. Niall barely gets the chance to look back at him before he’s been pressed up against the thick trunk of a tree and Louis is sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. He groans, fingers quickly twisting into the short sleeves of Louis’ shirt as he rises onto his tiptoes (Louis’ not that much taller than him, not really, but Niall still waiting for that growth spurt his Mam said he’d get last year).

He gasps into Louis mouth as he slides a hand between them, fingers slipping into his pants and wrapping tightly around his cock. The angle’s a bit wonky, but Louis starts to pump his dick in a hard and fast rhythm, jerking him at a blinding speed that has Niall wrapping his arms around his neck and thrusting into his touch. He lets out a whimpering moan and Louis kisses the skin just below his ear and whispers, “You have to be quiet.”

Niall bites down hard on his own lip as he rocks into Louis’ hand because if ever there was a time to be quiet, it’s now, when everyone they know is stomping through the woods trying to get to the same place. Louis switches from pumping the length of Niall’s dick to fisting the head, hand moving over him in quick tugs, and Niall leans his head back against the tree and keens as he comes, barely managing to keep his eyes open as he spills into Louis’ hand.

He’s still leaning against the tree and shaking when they hear leaves rustling in the distance, Louis wiping his hand off in some bushes as Niall’s shaking fingers button his jeans back up. He swallows thickly, tries to ignore how dry his mouth feels as Stan appears from behind a tree branch with a wicked smile on his face.

“We sent over the secret weapon,” he grin, a wild look in his eyes, “ _Zayn will win it for us all_.”

Louis does a good job of distracting Stan with his expressive hand gestures and wild way of speaking, so Niall can walking just a few paces behind them as he tries to get his legs to stop shaking and no one says anything.

When the two of them are put on dishes that night Niall finds himself stuck in his head rather than amused by Louis and Stan’s water fight. Louis always seems to initiate the dick touching, and Louis always seems to want Niall to be quiet － which is alright because maybe he doesn’t want Simon and the entirety of the scouts to know what he sounds like when he comes － but the truth of it is that Niall’s had _feelings_ for Louis for some time now. And yeah, maybe he’s imagined walking in on Louis in the showers after footy practice. Maybe he’s thought about watching the beads of water slide down the muscles in Louis’ back before he turned around. Maybe Niall’s thought about licking every last drop off his perfectly tanned skin before sucking Louis all the way down his throat.

But that was before he knew what Louis’ tongue felt like on his slit, or the way Louis’ lips always captured the bow of Niall’s whenever they kissed, or how Louis sounded when he came. That was before he knew how Louis’ brow would tighten and then flatten out the second he started painting Niall’s stomach with white stripes.

So he heads to bed early that night, begging off ghost stories and S’mores, hunting around his pack for the small jar of vaseline his Mam had demanded he bring along because his lips were always got chapped if he stayed outside too long (“It’s this English sun,” his mum always said, “different than the Irish one.” Niall knows that her reasoning is completely illogical, but the last time he argued science with her he got a swift smack round his head, and some things just aren’t worth fighting for).

Niall’s not exactly unfamiliar with having a finger inside himself. It’s quite possible, in fact, that he once nearly made a contortionist of himself feeling around back there for what a magazine left behind on the bus had described as a lad’s version of a g-spot, but he’s never been able to find it. 

He closes his eyes, thinking about how good Louis’ cock had felt against him. Niall remembers that morning with more clarity than everything else that’s happened in the past couple days. He thinks about how big Louis felt through his pants as he rocked against Niall’s arse, and how much hotter it’d felt when Louis’ hand had come over Niall’s stomach and down his thigh, wrapping around his knee. Niall shivers at the memory of Louis pulling his legs apart just a little and guiding him into the curve of Louis body like they were meant to fit together.

It shouldn’t be _that_ big of a deal for Louis to fuck him, then. It’s not that much to ask, right? Niall hasn’t actually asked for anything at all, and maybe he gets hard thinking about seeing Louis’ dick. Maybe he wants, at the very least, to hold it in his hand, get Louis slick before he slides into Niall and feel the sparks fly between them, or whatever it is that the movies are always saying is supposed to happen.

He can feel himself getting hard in his jeans, turning the small tub of vaso between his fingers. Niall reaches below the waistband of his boxers, slowly starting to stroke himself, before he trails his fingers down to his balls, biting his lip as he rolls them in his fingers. It doesn’t take much self-assurance, then, to lean back and bring his knees up, planting his feet on their sleeping bags. He passively thinks about the mess he’s about to make before listening to see if anyone’s coming. He can hear the sounds of the night and distant laughter, the crackle of the fire and some obnoxious squealing － god Andy is such a _twat_ － but nothing sounds like it near or headed towards Niall’s tent so he thinks, fuck it. He’s sort of got lube and he’s definitely got time since the only thing Louis loves more than telling scary stories its listening to them and he’ll be up forever trying to hear every single one. 

Niall gets the lid of and greases up his fingers before sliding it down and back, and he just can’t quite get that spot from this angle, so he presses and circles and it seems to be enough. It feels good, makes his dick jump as precome slides down the shaft, sticky on his stomach. Even still, it doesn’t _feel_ like enough, and he brings his knees up to his chest, sliding his arm underneath them and yeah, that’s much better. He’s whining quietly to himself as he works up to the second knuckle, fisting his dick slowly with his free hand when the zip slides open, and Niall just barely hears Louis whisper, “oh” before he opens his eyes and looks back at him.

Niall thinks about being embarrassed, he does, because he's laying on his back with his legs in the air and one hand on his dick with the other pumping his fingers into his hole. Mostly, he's just desperate to feel Louis slip inside him and he wonders what it would feel like because he knows how thick Louis' dick is and would it even _fit_? He doesn't even think about it, just rolls his body into his fingers obscenely and makes this noise that has Louis cursing and hastily tugging his sleep pants down.

Even if Niall's not ashamed, he's still nervous because this is everything he's wanted for a while now and what if Louis doesn't like him? What if he's a lousy lay, and Christ, Louis probably knows he's a virgin. Niall’s heart thuds harder against his chest and he wants to prove he's not some scared little kid who Louis can fuck around, okay? He gets some more vaso in his hand and works it over Louis dick, with this rush of confidence he finds _somewhere_. He’s leaning up to lick into Louis’ mouth, and maybe he gets brave and whispers a few dirty things into their kiss like, “Been lying here, thinking ‘bout how your fingers would feel,” and “don’t know if three of mine will be enough to feel like you, feel like your cock filling me up,” and “I dream about how you would feel inside,” and even more with “fuck me, please.”

Maybe it’s the innocence of Niall using his manners that does it, because Louis is all movement after that. Clothes are coming off this way and that and his hands are _all over_ Niall. Niall can’t keep up from where the heat of Louis’ touch starts and continues and where his lips will be biting, sucking, licking over Niall’s skin. He’s going to look like a bloody rainbow of bruises in the morning but he doesn’t care. He can’t care with Louis all over him and Louis’ fingers pushing Niall’s out of the road as he sinks two in straight away, curling them and teasing Niall with just how _different_ and _good_ they feel. But it’s not what he wants. Niall has another goal in mind.

“Please, Lou, want you so much,” Niall chokes out, from where he’s biting at his own lips as Lou’s two fingers become three.

Louis curses under his breath, removes his fingers so fast Niall feels their absence like a void. Louis pulls Niall’s hips up into his lap where he's sitting at an angle, his hands slipping between them and then Niall can _feel_ something much different to fingers at his hole. Niall digs his nails into Louis biceps as he leans over him and starts to push inside. His eyes go wide, because he's watching Louis sink into him but can also _feel_ it. It's like he can't breathe for a second, because he's feels so fucking _full_ and he knows it must be written all over his face.

Louis works him into it with these shallow little thrusts, not even pushing all the way inside. He still manages to knock the wind out of Niall because he's never felt something like this in his life. Then Louis brushes over something that makes his legs tremble and a moan rip from his throat and _oh_ , that must be what the magazine was talking about. God, he just wants Louis to do that _again_.

Niall digs the heel of his foot into the curve of Louis’ arse and begs, “ _Please_ , fucking － I want.”

Louis grins, but its between these harsh breaths and he's holding himself up over Niall while Niall's got his legs wrapped around Louis' hips but Louis finds it. A desperate moan escapes Niall’s throat, just a little too loud, and Louis drags his hips back at the same time he says, “You have to be quiet,” and Niall nods and bites down on his lip so hard he’s sure he’s gonna bleed. He slows and he pushes in and its the drag out where his hips stutter that does it. It’s like these extra sparks fly up Niall's spine and Louis does it again and again. Louis smirks seems to grow every time Niall’s face twists in pleasure, every time his nails scratch in deep down his back. His pace is steady and controlled, and Niall's coming before he can even say "fuck that's fucking amazing” or “you are a golden god of sex, Louis Tomlinson” or something even more sappy like “I think I love you.”

Louis doesn't stop, though － fucks into Niall a little harder and his eyelashes are dark fans against his cheekbones. Niall wants to kiss them, feel how soft they are against his lips but his body has pretty much revolted against all idea of movement, his come still hot on his belly and it feels like with each thrust the white hot heat of his orgasm keeps dragging on. Louis is fucking in and in and he's got sweat on his chest and maybe they should have turned the little lamp Niall had on off, but then Niall wouldn't see how Louis's stomach clenches and he wouldn't see Louis' mouth drop open and he wouldn't see the shake in Louis' arms as he loses it.

He’s coming so hard in spurts that Niall can feel all the way inside, gasping as Louis deep into him and Niall feels his thighs start to shake before he’s coming again from the _feel_ of it － just this little dribbly bits down his poor oversensitive cock. Niall would be embarrassed, but well － he is a teenager and he's actually had a competition on his own to see how many times he could come in a day (seventeen － could have been eighteen but he fell asleep or passed out from lack of fluids).

Louis drops his entire weight onto Niall and Niall loses what little breath he has when he does. Louis is panting against Niall’s neck and pressing his lips there, sucking soft over Niall's collarbones and just _breathing_. They don't say anything and Niall doesn't even have the _words_ but it’s nice. His hand finds its way to Louis’ hair and it’s wet and matted with sweat, but he runs his fingers through it anyway. Niall untangles some of the knots and Louis hums against his chest, right above his heart and Niall wonders if the sound of its erratic beating tells Louis all that he could be saying anyway.

Later, Louis pulls out and he gets his shirt to wipe Niall clean, all soft and tender. He kisses Niall, just curls their bodies together and kisses him slow and sweet and Niall thinks － maybe Louis _does_ know. Maybe Louis has known all along and all it took was a summer camping trip to make things different.

Things _are_ different. They're different when he wakes up and Louis is gone. They're different as he leaves Niall to pack up the tent and they're different when Simon drops them home and Louis doesn't even look at Niall. Louis just walks into his house and Niall falls face first into his bed and wonders how he can still feel the memory of Louis inside him and yet never felt so far apart.

They still have footy practice. Niall tries to talk to Louis about it, he does, but when he tries to bring it up he only succeeds in fumbling over his own words.

He goes from, “So when we － the tent, and,” to an awkward finish of, “the essay’s due on Thursday, right?” Louis barely gives him the time of day, his answer a short hum of agreement before he’s running the ball over to Stan, laughing at some obscene gesture he makes with his hands. Niall watches after him with a carefully blank face and tries not to let his anger get the best of him when Louis blows his whistles and calls drills.

“Your footwork’s messy, Horan!” he shouts across the field, looking stern. Niall doesn’t stop himself from glaring up at him, as he kicks the ball to Sean, and when he turns around to chat with the head coach he gives him the two finger salute. 

But Louis doesn’t _stop_. Every five minutes its, “Horan! Stop fucking around!” or “you’re running the ball too quickly, you’re gonna lose control” and then “for fuck’s sake, do you _know_ what a pass is?” 

It gets so bad that even Stan comes to Niall’s defence, giving a weak chuckle with a, “Jesus, Tommo, you wanna give him a chance to breathe, mate?”

Stan’s words hardly matter; Niall is completely fed up. He snaps the ball in Louis’ direction, not bothering to watch it fly through the air as he stomps off the field with his name being shouted at his back. He slams the door against the wall as he bursts into the changing room, nearly growling when he hears footsteps behind himself and turns around to find that it’s _Louis_.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? There’s a team out there waiting for you!” Louis shouts, throwing his arm out in wild gesture.

Niall thinks about punching him in the face, fisting his hands at his side as he glares. “Fucking fuck off with your _team_ bullshit. This is about you being a fucking coward who can’t admit that we had _sex_.”

Louis shoves him against the lockers _hard_ , completely knocking the wind out of him. For a moment Niall just stares at Louis in disbelief, taking in the set tension in his shoulders and the cross look on his face. He lets out an angry sound, shoving his back just had harshly, and Louis nearly tumbles over the bench before his fingers tangle in Niall’s jersey and he’s surging forward.

What Niall isn’t prepared for is for Louis to kiss him. He groans into Louis mouth, startled as his tongue pushes in and his teeth scrape over Niall’s bottom lip. Niall pushes back into, lets himself get lost in the bruising kiss, and he’s not sure anymore if his hands are pushing Louis away or pulling him closer.

“Get off of me,” he snaps as they come up for air, but his hands are yanking Louis’ hair so hard that he hisses and when he shoves Niall up against the locker his hand wraps around his thigh. Niall moans, bucking into Louis’ hips, and he’s damn near ready to wrap his legs around Louis’ waist and let him slam him into the lockers until he comes when he finally pulls away.

Louis wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, lips red and swollen, and Niall does the same, panting as he tries to catch his breathe. He expects Louis to say something, _anything_ , but instead he walks out the locker room without another word and leaves Niall with his head against the metal and his eyes looking up at the ceiling wondering _why_.

So if Niall acts like the teenager he is and totally pretends to have a tummy bug for a week, it’s not like he’s hiding from anything at all. A week is a stretch when it comes to his mother, but he fakes a fever well.

When Jay tells Maura that Louis must have caught the same thing because _he's_ at home too － then Niall doesn't have to play sick anymore, he feels it.

He feels sick and he hates that what he thought was going to be something with Louis is nothing at all. Its not as if his mam doesn't know about what Niall is like in the way of liking lads or birds but he was never entirely sure himself. He had (or has, it’s hit and miss sometimes) a gigantic crush on Justin Bieber but he also thought Selena was pretty fit, too.

But it’s different with Louis.

Louis has always been different. Louis' always been in his life since Niall's family moved to England when he was four. Louis' been this older brother figure when Niall was young because Greg stayed back in Mullingar with their Da and Niall really missed having someone to knock about with. He didn't gain many friends when he first came over － just Harry, mostly.

Harry who wasn’t exactly popular either with how he spoke so slowly and how curly his hair was. Girls always tweaked it, and even at Nursery school the boys gave him shit for looking like a “girl”. So he and Harry bonded over being social outcasts and he had Louis at home to kick a footy about and to run under the sprinkler with in nothing but their pants. (Once with no pants when they were eight or so － but that was mostly a visiting Harry's fault. Harry’s mum had tried to keep clothes on Harry, but ever since he was a toddler and figured out what press studs and buttons were for, was near impossible. Jay and Maura had shared a look and laughed and that had been that. And well, after Anne had left, Jay had called her a “new age hippy parent” and Maura had laughed so hard wine shot out of her nose.)

So maybe he's hiding and maybe Louis is too, but that doesn't stop Harry from coming over and lying on top of where Niall has himself buried under the covers and it’s near suffocating him, Harry and the blankets and Harry's bloody _curls_.

Harry says he won't leave until Niall talks because he _knows_ Niall and he knows he's not sick.

“I am,” Niall says a little stubbornly, mustering up a great sniffle and rubs at his eyes hard once Harry lets him up. He shuffles up the bed so he's got his back against the wall. Maybe if he presses at his eyes hard enough Harry will think it’s his allergies playing up to Harry's bloody cat which sheds hair _everywhere_ and since Harry loves the bloody thing － mostly all over Harry.

"You are not. You're hiding or pining and is this about Lou? He hasn't been to school and we've not had practice since last week," he frowns. Harry has this way of frowning that makes anything seem like a catastrophic event.

Niall shrugs because he can feel his face heat with just the mention of Louis and his stomach turns at the same time because he _hurts_ too.

"You stomped off to the change rooms that day. Did. . ." Harry tilts his head to the side and his green eyes widen and, oh fuck. Harry really does know him too well.

"You fucked Louis!"

Niall opens his mouth to lie and say he didn't, he really does, but Harry's already got that look on his face like he has all the answers to his own questions. Instead, Niall moves straight to frowning as he sits up and wraps his arms around his knees. "It really doesn't matter, he doesn't want anything to do with me.”

Harry considers him for a long moment because Harry considers _everything_ , rolls his thoughts around in his head and lets them fully process before he speaks. Then he says, "How do you even know that?"

"Because he won't fucking look at me and he kiss-punched me in the changing room."

Niall tries not to let his bottom lip quiver because he's not _invested_ , he's not. even though he was totally thinking about banging Louis for a whole year, he wasn't and it doesn't hurt, okay.

Harry gets a cross look on his face as says, "We'll put blue dye in his shampoo.”

Niall snorts because, "Honestly, Hazza, how would you even do that?" Harry just gives him a big bear hug because he's always gonna be there for him and knows when Niall just needs a hug.

Harry comes round later that weekend demanding Niall come to a party and Niall's getting ready to say no, but even Maura is demanding he leave the house.

“If I have to sit in my fecking living room for one more fecking night watching the same five fecking episodes of One Tree Hill, I will throw that disc out the window,” Maura says, hilly accent thick as she sets out the day’s fresh biscuits.

“I think you left out a fecking there, Maura. Should have been ‘out the fecking window’,” Harry says and gets a cuff around the ears with “I won’t have you swearing in my house, Harold Styles,” and Harry’s echoing, “But that’s not even my _name_.”

Harry still manages to eat ten of Maura’s best honey oat biscuits before she gives him a dirty look. Harry’s _everyone’s_ favourite.

Niall knows when he’s beat － well, browbeaten as such, so fine, he says. He will go to this stupid party but if there's only cheap beer he's walking straight out and going to that caf that serves hot chips until two am instead.

Of course as soon as he gets there, he loses Harry in the crowd and gets a drink put in his hand by someone that looks vaguely familiar and he probably should know their name given how small their town is. It doesn’t matter though, because he spots Louis right away, dancing with some gorgeous girl and highfiving Stan over her shoulder. Niall feels like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs as their eyes meet for a moment and Louis tightens his grip on her and oh. Right. That's how it is. And wow, it was way too easy to find a fifth of vodka that was more than half full.

It’s late, later than before but Niall’s lost track of time after counting his tenth beer and maybe the same amount of shots, Niall's a bit (really) drunk and he just wants to get away from all the noise and he _still_ can't find Harry. There was a moment when he thought a head of curls was familiar － but that moment was somewhere between heading out to the shed where the smell of green was strong and sitting in a pool chair with his head tipped back while someone poured a mix of things into a funnel and down some hose to his mouth. Niall finds his way upstairs, and when he swings a bedroom door open Louis is sitting there rolling a condom between his fingers with this faraway look on his face and his bird is nowhere in sight.

Niall should shut the door and walk out. He should find some bird or some bloke that he doesn't find too ugly in the light that vodka and beer and possibly something with licorice if that's what that taste is in his mouth is gives him and just hook up. Hook up and get fucked up and forget about Louis Tomlinson.

He should do that. He really should. Yet he closes the door and as he does Louis looks up and his face changes. There's a smile at the corner of his lips and the _second_ Niall looks like he's going to smile back, Louis' fades and the shutters come down and he looks at the floor with a, "What do you want?"

Its not really a question and its not exactly one Niall needs to think about before answering. “You. I want you, but you obviously don't want me, I mean," and he nods at where Louis is still holding the foil square between finger and thumb and Louis shrugs his shoulders.

"'S'not about you is it," Louis frowns. He sounds rather defeated.

"What does that even mean? Of course nothing is about me, nothing has been about me since you rubbed off against me that first morning at camp, nothing's been about me when you had your hand around my cock or when your lips were wrapped there instead!" Niall says, resting his back against the door as he sighs, "it wasn't even about me when we fucked. You were probably just hard up and I was there and offering and I fucking wanted it so yeah, fool on me. Nothing is about me at all."

This quiet settles between them and Niall is _not_ crying he's just tired and his eyes are sore from the weed he’d smoked with Nick downstairs earlier or not so long ago. It could possibly have been the last time he saw Harry, too.

It’s quiet and Louis' "Fuck you," is so soft he shouldn't hear it but he does.

"Fuck me?" Niall answers, his brows raise and all the hurt he had for how Louis has treated him is out the window with those words. "Fuck _me_?" he says again, stepping forward, and before he can even think about what he's doing he's shoving at Louis's shoulder, sending him sprawling back onto the bed. Niall follows, near straddles Louis lap and pushes down at Louis’ arms, hands tight on his shoulders. "Fuck _you_ more like," Then he's kissing Louis with near brutal force and a constant stream of "fuck fuck fuck" going on in the back of his head.

Niall’s got the upperhand at first because he's caught Louis by surprise, but he's almost definitely wasted and his limbs are a bit heavy and it only takes a few shoves before Louis is rolling them over. Niall's not going to fucking give in and give him what he wants, because he's not some fucking toy that Louis can use whenever he’s lonely and his dick’s hard. He’s not just going to give in, even though every bone in his body is telling him how “ _good_ it'll feel Niall, remember, like last time?” They're just biting at each other and sucking bruises everywhere and clothes keep coming off and Niall's almost dizzy with how many times he goes from on his back to pushing Louis onto his.

Of course Louis wins, Louis's always going to win. He doesn't give a shit about Niall, does he? But Niall cares so fucking much for him. Even as he spits out a "fuck you" it sounds a lot more like "I love you" than a declaration of hate.

Louis wraps his hand around Niall's thigh and pushes it up the bed a little and there's moment where Niall thinks he might see it in Louis' eyes, that flash of _something_ , and his fingers have never been more gentle on Niall's skin. Maybe Niall’s just fucking wasted and he doesn't have much time to think about it because Louis is sinking into him and he's not going slow like last time. Louis doesn't wait for Niall to get used to him. He just starts pounding into him and Niall has to concentrate to just hold on, fingers slipping over Louis skin with each thrust as a thick layer of sweat builds between them. Louis looks so fucking hot with his fingers gripping the headboard, giving him the leverage to fuck into Niall with these solid thrusts that have Niall crying out into Louis' ear, and it's the first time that Louis' not telling him to be _quiet_ and God, that means something right? It has to mean something.

Niall is so drunk, so fucking wasted that when he comes － because it feels right the way Louis fucks him just so － that he passes out. Or maybe he doesn't right then because he remembers Louis coming － not the hot wet heat inside of him this time because there's a condom there － but its still Louis’ face in the crook of his neck and he vaguely remembers Louis teeth biting into the muscle there and when he wakes the next morning and his fingers brush across the skin its tender. He opens his eyes from the touch and of course, he's alone. Of _course_ he's alone.

He's a fucking idiot who's had sex twice with someone that's supposed to be one of his best friends, and he's got nothing to show for it accept a wicked bite on his neck and fingerprints on his hips and some on his wrists from where Louis held him down hard. Niall throws an arm over his face and laughs, he laughs until he can't anymore because his lungs _ache_ and he should hate himself. Should hate Louis. But he just can't _feel_ anymore.

He collects his pants from some where they hang on a trophy for boxing (oh shit, were they fucking on Liam fucking Payne's bed?) and his shirt from another larger one for track (yep, he fucked Louis on Liam fucking “nice guy to everyone” Payne's fucking bed). It’s not too hard to find his jeans and his snapback is underneath those. His shoes are under Liam's desk which doesn't house anything like books or texts just a tank with a tortoise who blows bubbles at Niall when he leans in to look. He finds Harry downstairs sleeping on the stairs, all curled into Ed's side and they look like the guinea pigs that Lottie and Fizz own, all curly, fuzzy hair mixed together in ginger and chocolate tones. He kicks Harry awake and he yawns and pats at Ed's face before standing up and wrapping an arm around Niall as they head out the door.

Harry livens up a bit once they get to that caf that Niall threatened to go eat at － it does a mean big breakfast with black sausage and all. Harry sips on his tea and tries to steal Niall's chips resulting in his hand getting stabbed with a fork a few too many times.

“Fuck, you're in a right mood this morning aren't you? Did you not have fun last night?" Harry asks as he nurses his recently wounded hand and pouts in a way that means Niall usually gives him something small off his plate because he _hates_ when Harry epitomises a sad puppy.

Niall shrugs and looks at his plate and yeah, he may stab at a sausage link with the same ferocity that he was just attacking Haz but thats neither here nor there.

"Was alright."

Harry is quiet and Niall rubs a hand over his neck and only when Harry says "fuck" in the slowest form possible that Niall realises what he's gone and done.

"What, is _that_?" Harry asks, scooting his chair around close and pulling at Niall's fingers. Niall’s desperately trying to hold on but Harry doesn't play fair, poking him in the side with his free hand and yeah, Harry whistles long and low, "Who, or should I say, _what_ animal gave you that?"

"No one," Niall says, flinching because, "Do you _have_ to poke everything?"

Harry sits back and just watches Niall who jams a whole spoonful of beans into his mouth, hoping he won't have to speak and maybe Harry will let it lie.

“You fucked him again, didn't you? Jesus fucking Christ, Nialler," Harry says shaking his head in disbelief and Niall’s stomach has a reaction to either what Harry’s picked up on or the bacon mixing with whatever liquor is still burbling away down there.

"We had a fight," Niall caves, frowning at his sausage. He tries to fork it aggressively again but it skids away, sliding into his puddle of HP sauce. He's trying to remember all the details but he can't really remember _what_ the fight was about, only that he desperately wanted Louis to fucking say something and he didn't. Then he gets a lot of flashes of Louis' hips slapping against his arse and a hazy thought that maybe Louis cried out _“I want you”_ against his neck but he doesn't know if that really happened or if his drunk mind wanted it to happen.

Maybe he's been quiet for too long because Harry's staring at him now with doe eyes and his hand has stopped poking the bruise and has gone to just petting over it softly, like it'll somehow numb the pain Niall feels in his heart a little.

Harry gets a dark look on his face and says, "I'm gonna kill him."

Niall just fixes him with a look and shakes his head. "Please just don't, Haz? Don't. It's already a fucking mess without you sticking your two cents in it."

Because maybe he'd rather gave these stupid fights with Louis than have it end in a disaster. Maybe he wants to crash into the end of their friendship slowly and savour each moment then let it all blow up at once.

Apparently, fate has other ideas because there's this ruckus at the front of the caf now and Niall thinks that he should have walked further into the back and not had the table near the windows because he knows Harry likes to people watch. There's this second, these few tiny incomprehensible seconds that drag right out into infinity where Niall looks up and catches Louis' eyes and the blue widens and then there's just a perfect ring of white around them and he stops. They stare and Niall can't even tell if his heart is beating anymore because everything has gone utterly quiet. Louis doesn't blink or maybe time stands still because Niall doesn't think he does either. It's like all this communication is going on with neither of them moving because Niall can see the second that Louis dips his eyes long enough to catch the dark purple on Niall's neck. He can see the moment where Louis’ cheeks flush pink and he licks his lips and it looks like want and then it changes.

Louis’ whole face changes and his eyes finally blink and then sound comes rushing back in because Liam has his arm around Louis and twatty Andy is there behind them making a lot of noise about some bird that he got off with had the biggest tits he’d ever seen and how “she was so tight” and what the fuck ever. Niall doesn't care. He doesn't care when they walk past to the counter.

Liam fixes him with a trademark Liam Payne grin and says, "Alright Nialler?" like he's known Niall for years and they're great mates. (Which, admittedly, they _have_ known each other for years － they have this extra music class with Miss Flack every Thursday afternoon. Liam plays piano and sings like an angel and Niall plays guitar and hates the way his voice sounds but tries figuring out harmonies with Perfect Payne anyway.)

Louis doesn't say a word.

Andy flicks Harry's ear and pulls on his hair and Harry rolls his eyes and attempts to hit Andy in the balls, just missing as he tells him to fuck off. No one but Liam likes Andy, he's just a gigantic twat but they've only one more year with him so no one causes a fuss. That and Harry just isn't the type to start shit with people.

Or so Niall thought.

“Oi, Louis, have a good time last night?" he says, smiling curtly. He props a hand underneath his chin, not even daring to give Niall a sideways glance.

Niall thinks he didn't stab Harry hard enough.

He steps hard on Harry's foot under the table but Harry's condescending smile doesn't falter. Of course fucking Andy pipes up.

"Fuckin' right he did, didn't even come downstairs until fucking four in the morning to help finish off the last fifth!” he exclaims, clapping Louis on the shoulder with a heavy hand.

Niall can taste the sour in his mouth because he doesn't need to know this. He doesn't need to know that Louis finished fucking him and then popped off downstairs for a nightcap with douchebag Samuels.

Of course that fact only makes Harry angrier, so he starts pressing for details. ”Oh really? Anyone I'd know?"

Harry’s giving Louis a look, just daring him to lie or respond or _anything_.

Niall is shakes his head and mumbles, "Just drop it, Hazza."

It’s obvious Harry's not going to let someone get away with walking all over his friend like that, not with this sudden intensity Harry’s got on his face. Green eyes near burning with the fiery edge that’s coating all his words. "No seriously, Tommo, who got the pleasure of fucking the future footy star last night?"

Louis teeters on his feet, biting down on the inside of his cheek as he averts his gaze.

"It had to be someone good didn't it?" Harry says with this glint in his eye and Christ, is this going to come to punches because Niall can't. He doesn't want a part in this.

Liam, who was giggling before, is now looking between their table and Louis and his fuzzy brows are drawing tight like he's trying to figure something out. Niall doesn't know whether he wants to sink further down into his chair or run, and either way he feels like it's a sign. Even with Louis being such a right cunt in this situation － Niall is something along the same lines considering he was just as involved as Louis was.

He kicks Harry hard in the shin but Harry won't stop. "Bet you gave it to them good, didn't you? Bet with teeth like yours, Tommo,” And Harry spits the word, making it sound like a curse, “You're a biter, bit of a vampire so I've heard."

Niall's face heats up to the point that he thinks you could fry one of the eggs he's yet to have eaten on his face and his hand automatically comes up to hide the mark on his neck.

Liam’s eyes follow and widen and Louis looks like he's going to explode or something because his lips are a white line and stupid Andy has thankfully already left the conversation, leaning against the counter and attempting what is probably by Andy's standards flirting but Cher looks like she's having none of it.

” _Harry,_ " Niall says and it's harsh and quiet but he hopes he gets the point across because Liam looks like he's about to figure _something_ out at any second and Harry is _still_ talking.

“Bit of a dick thing to do to someone you don't even care about, marking em up like that," and Niall can't. He can't take Harry's words of truth or Louis silence or Liam’s _stare_ a second longer.

"Fuck you, Haz," is all he says as he grabs up his wallet and his snapback from where it’s sitting on the table (never say Maura didn't teach her son manners and etiquette － or tried to at the very least).

He doesn't stop when Harry calls him back and he doesn't stop when he walks out the door and up the road and toward his house. There's tears threatening to form in his eyes and he curses leaving his Ray Bans at home, but it's okay, it's going to be fine. He turns onto the street that leads down to his house and stops by the park, which is pretty empty by a Saturday’s standards (then again, it is known to be frequented by the town drunk and flasher so maybe it's not the most family welcoming place after all).

He sits on the swing and works his legs hard enough that he's near flying, eyes closed and listening only to the whoosh of air going by and pushing all that was said in the caf out of his mind. He'll find and maim Harry later. But he can't think, can't focus on how Louis said nothing at all, how Louis _looked_ at him like he was nothing at all. It brings on new worlds of hurt that Niall just can't take right now.

It'll be fine. He'll just avoid Louis, quit the team or just ride it out － they're close to the end of season now so it'll be fine. It'll take nothing to convince his mum that he wants to go to Ireland for the break before his final year. She's been at him to visit his dad for a while and he does actually miss Greg and maybe he needs a proper older brother figure in his life. Maybe he just needs to wait it out because Louis will be moving to London and if rumor is right, he'll be training with the lesser squad for the Hotspurs come next season.

He can wait it out. He can stop watching Louis and stop his heart from aching and stop wanting things Louis so obviously doesn't or isn't ready to admit that he wants. He'll be fine. Really. It's only a couple of months. Then someone stops his swing and it's like a punch in the gut when he opens his eyes to vivid blue ones he can't possibly ever even imagine trying to forget.

Louis’ just staring at him for the longest time, and he's not _saying_ anything. But Niall's so tired of doing all the talking. He's not going to fucking fill up the space between them with the same words he's been saying all along, isn't going to give Louis an out this time. Louis tries to avoid having to speak, wraps his fingers around Niall's where his hands have a death grip on the chains, but Niall drops his hand into his lap and shakes his head because _fuck no_ , he's not letting himself fall into that trap again.

Louis finally sighs and his eyes look so tired. he runs his fingers through his hair and worries his lip between his teeth and the first thing he says is, "I'm sorry."

It means a lot to Niall, but that's nowhere near enough, and he kicks the gravel underneath his feet as he looks down, shaking his head. "S'not enough."

Louis nods, "I know."

He steps in between Niall's legs. "You just... you came out of nowhere. it was like nothing and then everything all at once."

Niall's breath catches a little at that, because it was never like that for him; his crush on Louis had always been a slow burn, building over time until it made his skin feel like it was on fire.

"And I didn't want to.. be like that. It was easier to pretend it was just a phase with people I didn't care about," Louis says, and he's the one avoiding Niall's eyes now. "But you were never like them. I didn't look at those guys and want to kiss them in the morning before I snuck out of bed."

Niall hadn’t really known there were others, he knew that Louis was experienced and all and his relationship with Liam was just strange in it’s closeness (then again, most people had snickered about Niall and Harry, too). Still, when they’d had sex that night in the tent － he certainly didn’t seem half as nervous as Niall had and Niall had been the one _wanting_ it. It hurts a little, knowing Niall wasn’t the first to have this with Louis but then everything he’s done with Louis has ended up in Niall being hurt so maybe it doesn’t matter after all. Niall's just so tired because Louis just saying things, but these things don't _change_ anything. He's about ready to pick up his feet and walk home to have a good cry.

"What do you want from me, Louis?" he says, and he rests his head against the metal of the swing as he sighs, "you have all of me anyway, what else is there to give?"

Niall can tell that Louis is terrified, but at least he isn't running this time, at least his feet are still planted between Niall's in the rocks. He doesn't say anything, just wraps his fingers around Niall's cheek. Niall closes his eyes and leans into it, because Louis' hands can be rough sometimes, but he also has the sweetest touch. When he tilts his head up just so, Niall doesn't even fight him, just lets their lips brush together and gasps when Louis runs his tongue over his lip and slots their lips together.

It’s perfect, it feels like everything Niall wants from Louis but it's not enough. They've done the physical and Niall wants _more_.

Niall readies himself to pull back, to break whatever this is and just _make_ Louis say something － anything － that confirms what this is but he doesn't. He doesn't because Louis hasn't gone any further than just the press of their lips together. No tongue, no heat, no _intent_. Just these soft sweet swipes of their lips against each other and it's. . . it's really nice. It's nice and it's sort of like the first kiss they never had, should have had. It says so much more than what Louis' admitted to and it says what Niall wants to hear.

In the end he does pull back, just a shift of his head and Louis is left there, eyes blinking and mouth still left in the shape he'd moulded it to Niall's.

"Louis,” he starts and there's this wealth of words he needs to speak, questions that he wants answered and he doesn't even know where to begin.

"I am sorry. I'm sorry I can't be everything you want right now and I'm sorry that I really fucked us up － you up with how I reacted," Louis says and his eyes are pleading, his fingertips sliding down over Niall's grip on the chain and it's this light touch that somehow grounds Niall further into whatever this is. "I don't want to hurt you anymore, and I don't want to hurt myself by being someone I'm not. I just, I don't know where to start and how to even begin."

Louis looks so lost, so utterly undone and Niall hates it. He takes a deep breath and looks down at where his hand is sat in his lap.

"Like this," is what he says after he sees Louis' eyes begin to fill and Lou bite hard on his lip like he's trying to keep more words from pouring out that may hurt or heal them both.

Niall raises his hand and tugs at Louis’ wrist where his knuckles are still white, holding onto the chain and keeping them still. He slides his fingers between Louis' and they fit. They fit like they have since they were in Primary school, walking out to meet one another’s mum’s, hands swinging between them. They fit like they did when Louis taught Niall to skate the first Christmas they had a really good snow and the lake just out of town had frozen solid.

They fit like they're supposed to, and when Louis looks up at Niall and chokes out this sob of a laugh, half smiling at him, Niall thinks, this is how it starts.

**Author's Note:**

> baddiamonds is [badjujuboo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/miztrezboo) & [thediamondskies](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thediamondskies)


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